


his eyes are home

by hazyhowell



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan Howell/Phil Lester Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Phanfiction, kinda fluff at the end ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazyhowell/pseuds/hazyhowell
Summary: phil has been plagued by nightmares, and tonight treated him no differently.





	his eyes are home

5:17 am. I should be asleep. I should be asleep, next to him, but I’m not.

He’s not here, and it’s my fault.

I drove him out.

If it wasn’t for my impatience and brash comments, we wouldn’t be here right now.  _ I  _ wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t be in the kitchen afraid to leave where  _ it _ happened, as if I did leave a change would solidify, that he would leave forever. I wouldn’t be standing over a table, eyes never leaving my phone. I wouldn’t be playing what happened over and over again and in my head, dissecting and analyzing every action, every word, every expression, trying to figure out when and how it went wrong. I wouldn’t be trying to wrap my head around how to fix this. I wouldn’t be scared out of my fucking mind. 

I hear a door slam shut; my heart leaps, a flash a hope whips across my mind. “He’s back,” I whisper like it was a part of the air I breathe.

Hurried footsteps pound up the many stairs; my heart beats with each one. I run to meet whomever it is, although I know it’s him. It  _ has _ to be him.

I bolt down the stairs - nearly tripping over my own feet multiple times - and then stop. My heart stops racing to the finish line. My chest lifts up, my burdens disintegrate beneath me. He’s there, he’s safe. 

I don’t think, I just run. I run towards him like he’ll disappear if I don’t. I don’t want him to be gone, I don’t want him to leave again.

We meet and lock eyes. We don’t say anything - what is there to say? - we just stare, our breathing appeared to be synced. I take a small step forward, my arms tentatively reaching out to him. “Dan,” I whisper almost inaudibly.

He collapses in my arms, and I hold him with all that I am. “Dan,” I manage to squeak out, tears flooding out of my eyes. I wrap my arms tighter around him, terrified of letting go. Everything is okay, everything is okay.

Until it isn’t.

Dan keeps collapsing. He slips from my arms and onto the floor. He doesn’t move, and neither do I. I’m too shocked to react. Then my senses kick in, and I collapse on my knees next to him. 

“DAN,” I scream, hoping -  _ praying  _ \- for him to respond. He doesn’t.

I grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Nothing.

I start to hyperventilate, trying to think of what to do, how to help him. This, it’s all so sudden, and I’m so unprepared to handle this. 

Tears start to swell behind my eyes. I’m rendered speechless. Part of my brain is screaming at me to do something, anything, but my body won’t listen. It’s like my mind and body are no longer cooperating, like they’ve given up on each other. It’s like I physically can’t do anything. Dan is lying there motionless and all I can do is sit here like a fucking idiot, not knowing what to do.

The tears break through their barrier, and they come rushing out. I’m too heavy to stay sitting up, so I fall onto Dan’s chest. I grip onto his shirt, crying out.

I feel so helpless. 

He coughs, and a small weight is lifted from me. Then I look down at him, at his mouth.  _ Is that…? _

He coughs again.  _ No. No no no nonononono. _ Blood starts trickling out of his mouth. He coughs again, and what I was scared of is now confirmed; more blood starts creeping. The more dark red liquid that escapes his mouth, the less air that rushes into mine. 

“NO. DAN!” I scream through tears. I shake him, desperate for something, anything.

He’s unresponsive.

I don’t know who it’s to, since Dan won’t hear it, but I scream, I cry out.

“Phil!” I open my eyes and move my balled up, tear-stained hands from them. I look up to met Dan’s concerned gaze. “Phil,” he says softly, now that I’m awake. 

He pulls me up into his arms, into his embrace. He rubs his hands up and down my back, gently cooing and rocking me.

I realize I’m shaking. He must notice it, too, because he wraps his arms around me tighter.

His face rests on top of my head, and I bury it into his chest. “You’re okay, Phil, you’re okay,” he reminds me quietly.

He pulls away slightly to look at me. He’s concerned, I can tell. I don’t blame him, though; this is the third time this week. He cups my cheek with his hand and says, “What was this one about?”

I take a deep breath, trying to regain at least a little composure. “W-we had a fight or-or something like that. I was worried about you. Y-you came back home, b-but you col-collapsed on the stairs. You st-started coughing up-p blood.” I avert his gaze.

Everything in me is screaming at me to cry, but I can’t.

I feel like something has been ripped away from me. For a brief moment, I had experienced Dan being torn away. I had felt what that was like, only to be told none of it was true; like it was some sick practical joke.

Then I woke up. I had him, he was still here, holding me tightly against his chest. 

He moves his hand to hold my chin and redirect my face so I have no choice but to look at him. Neither of us say anything, we just stare at each other like this for a few moments. 

Then I break.

“I thought I had lost you.” I allow the words to escape me, tears following suit; the pressure had built up. I cry out, completely hysterical, the weight of the nightmare fully hitting me. I grasp at Dan’s shirt. I’m desperately trying to hold onto him; I thought I had lost him again. I thought I would never be able to hold him again, so I’m making up for that now. I’m afraid that if I let go, he’ll actually be gone this time. 

“Phil, Phil,” Dan says gently, pulling me closer to him. “I’m here, you didn’t lose me.”

I nod into his chest. Trying to regain my composure, I breathe in and out. The steady beat of Dan’s heart, the constant rise and fall of his chest, it calms me. I breathe in and out one last time before pulling away to look at him. I’m still clutching his shirt.

He moves the hair away from my face and caresses my cheek. A small smile crosses his lips; it still makes my chest flutter.

My eyes meet his, and I’m reminded.

His eyes are home. They always bring me back, calm me down. They’re comfort when it feels like I have none. They’re gentle and kind and caring and everything I would hope for. Even after the nightmares - when I don’t know what’s real and what’s not, when my brain doesn’t seem to work and it’s difficult to breathe - his eyes are what bring me back into reality. His eyes, they’re safe. They remind me that I’m safe, and that the man behind them is, too.


End file.
